Ravenous: The Taxxon Chronicles
by MasterShaper
Summary: How the Taxxons came to be cursed with insane hunger, how the Anati conflict progressed, how Visser One failed for the last time, and how all of it ended. AU. IN PROGRESS.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

All was silent.

For the first time in a while, the very fabric of space-time was silent, its infinitely large domain illuminated solely by the faint glow of the innumerable strands of space-time that wove their way through the darkness in patterns that no mind could possibly decipher. The fragile-looking strands stretched their way across fantastic distances, wound into intricate tangles, and bent into subtle loops and twists, creating a massive, intertwined morass that defined the sequence of possible chronological events.

No mind could have possibly comprehend even the most basic of these tangles.

No _mortal_ mind could, by all means.

A mind that was detached from the realm of mortality, suspended within the bowels of space-time itself, however...

Now that is a different story altogether.

* * *

The Ellimist was an enigmatic being, the important part of this statement being 'enigmatic' and not 'being'. He was not living, yet lived through the proliferation of life. He could manipulate time itself, and as a matter of fact, the bowels of space-time were his eternal domain.

A domain shared by a similarly enigmatic non-being called Crayak.

Between the two of them, they kept a delicate balance running within time. While the Ellimist created life and nurtured it, Crayak eliminated life and detested it. Not to say the latter didn't create life - his creations were very much alive, and every bit as genocidal as their maker. They were polar opposites, their loathing for each other matched only by their mutual, grudging respect for their worthy opponent.

And to keep the balance maintained, there was the Game.

It was the only way they could strike out at each other without collapsing the universe around themselves, and as such, the Game was on.

The Game was bound by simple rules, but they were most definitely unbreakable.

As with all other games, however, there were several loopholes in the rules, and neither of them were hesitant to abuse said loopholes for their own motives.

After all, the winner would take it all, and the stakes were a little higher than what most people were accustomed to.

* * *

A bundle of space-time contracted into a pulsating sphere of light, glowing brightly in every color of the rainbow. It pulsated slowly for a while, before a frail-looking hand stretched out and gently extricated the globule of light from amidst the countless others, the action being so gentle that none of the other strands so much as twitched in their places.

"Well, well, well... What have we here?" the Ellimist wondered aloud, scrutinizing the ball of light. Several thick strands had looped around each other, eventually fusing into a thick, conjugated mass. He pondered this unnatural phenomenon for a moment or several, seeing, hearing, and feeling time's passage through the strands gathered in his palm.

After several minutes, he slowly replaced the sphere into the colossal lattice from which it had come, and stepped back, admiring the changes his handiwork had brought about.

Even as the complex mass of space-time strands rearranged themselves all around him, he smiled, sensing his nemesis approaching.

"The Rules, Ellimist!" growled Crayak, materializing in his customary guise of a huge cyborg, "What have you done?'

"Crayak, Crayak," the Ellimist chided, with some amusement in his voice, "The Rules prohibit us from undoing deaths, am I not correct?"

"And also the undoing of decisions," rumbled the dark cyborg, "Just what _did_ you fool about with, you meddling nitwit?"

The Ellimist drew himself up to his full height in his incarnation as a diminutive old man, positively dwarfed by Crayak's towering bulk, "Not anything outside the rules, my dear adversary."

"What. Did. You. DO?!" the last word left Crayak as a bellow that shook the very fabric of space-time itself.

"Wait and see, Crayak. Wait and see."

"You broke the Rules, didn't you?!"

"I did not, and you have my word on that."

Once again, space-time was silent as the two players in the Game contemplated each other, no emotions visible in their chosen guises.

Crayak broke the silence, his lone, red-glowing eye squinting with contempt, "I have your word, _Ellimist._ No undoing of deaths or decisions?"

"None at all."

Without bothering to say anything more, the machine-like entity named Crayak vanished into nothingness, leaving the Ellimist alone once again, surrounded by the altered strands of space-time.

And at nothing in particular, the Ellimist smiled.

* * *

Above a slowly-rotating planet covered in lush green forests and wide expanses of blue ocean, a large asteroid lay suspended in orbit, deadly by virtue of its presence alone. It had occupied that very same orbit for about a decade or so, sluggishly moving in an elliptical path around the fertile world it potentially threatened. It was the largest in an asteroid belt that surrounded the lush world nearby, a veritable mountain of metal and rock more than two kilometers in length.

A smaller asteroid somehow managed to leave its orbit, as another, larger asteroid bumped it in the vacuum of space.

Such occurrences were common, and usually, nothing happened. But the small asteroid somehow left its orbit, anyway.

Within several hours, the large asteroid was tumbling ever-so-slowly towards the green planet, bearing down on an entire species that had barely started looking at the stars, let alone wondered what they were.

As time passed, it fell faster, and soon enough, it impacted on a continent laden with every sort of life form imaginable.

And the Ellimist, watching passively from his hidden vantage point, nodded with satisfaction.

On the other side of the same solar system, Crayak gave a grudging nod of approval, before vanishing and leaving his nemesis alone for the second time.

Too occupied with the asteroid impact on the green planet, now little more than a ruined wreck of an ecosystem, Crayak had failed to notice the _other_ asteroid crashing onto a world several hundred light years away from the observed one.

The Ellimist smiled as he disappeared back into the bowels of space-time to ponder his next move. What he had done was trigger the asteroid collision on one world. As a result of that, and the complexities of space-time, the second asteroid impact had happened.

He could only hope that the rest would proceed as planned. Of all probable the future outcomes of his little deed, none were absolutely certain, and the outcome he was banking on was bordering on being improbable. But he had done what he could, and hopefully, time itself would settle the rest of it for him.

* * *

Far away from the two damaged worlds, a species of primitive apes glanced up at the sky for the first time, marveling at the sight of the stars shining in all their glory.


	2. Nothlit

**Nothlit - Arbron  
**

My name is Arbron Laras Istilah, and I am an _aristh _in the Andalite military. When I first enlisted myself, I dreamed of one day being like the great warriors of legend, bringing glory to the Andalite race and peace to the galaxy. Now, as I hide quietly in a dark corner of the Yeerk's busy spaceport on the Taxxon home world, I realize that my dreams and ambitions are as far as they could ever be from the true way things are.

It had all started so simply - capture a Skrit Na ship, interrogate the crew, rescue the humans that were detained aboard the strange alien's craft. Then came the anomalous energy signatures from the other Skrit Na ship, the one that had gotten away.

And then came the mission to the Taxxon home world's surface, a place closer to any form of Hell I could possibly imagine.

That's basically how I ended up as a Taxxon, the latest and probably most intelligent member of a race that spent their entire lives being slaves of an insatiable appetite, and whose eternal hunger had led to them willingly becoming servants of the Yeerks. I had fled and hidden myself from the other creatures about the spaceport, after succumbing to the Taxxon morph's vile instincts and eating the still-warm flesh of a dead Taxxon.

I felt my time counting down through my internal clock, finally realizing that two hours had indeed passed. I felt the cold, hard truth welling up inside my mind, threatening to send me screaming and running into open sight.

Now, as I stay concealed within the musty smelling recesses of a maintenance area, I wonder just what I can do next. Going home was not an option - a dishonorable exile was probably what awaited me if I actually made it back. I couldn't take the Yeerks head-on, since I was but one Taxxon against an army of monsters. So I guess that just leaves me the option of trying to locate Elfangor and Alloran.

After that... I honestly have no idea what I shall do.

Perhaps a quick death would be best? Would they even consent to such a despicable act? Will my cowardice be condemned?

Fate, it seems, has several devious ideas in her undoubtedly sadistic mind. For my musings were interrupted by another Taxxon slithering into the maintenance area where I was hiding.

Several tense seconds elapsed before I realized that the newcomer Taxxon was unarmed, and that it actually looked as if it were _shivering_.

Tentatively, nervously, I called out to it with thought-speak, ((Elfangor! Is that you?))

Somehow, I felt both euphoric and horrified simultaneously as the other Taxxon visibly perked up and replied to my call.

((Arbron?))

* * *

Almost a quarter of an hour later, I stood behind the familiar controls of a Skrit Na ship, Elfangor powering up the engines.

And this time, it was the one with the Time Matrix stowed away comfortably in its hold.

Gedd controllers slapped their feeble palms against the ship's hull, demanding that we shut down the engines and open up the ship. As soon as the engines began to enter their priming cycle, though, they began hitting at the hull with increased agitation, clearly upset. I absently stared out of the view port at the bustling controllers that were all around us, and wondered just how much damage I could do if I self-destructed the ship right here and now.

((Arbron, what are you waiting for? Demorph!))

"Rrrr-open up! Powerrr down, rrryou fool!"

((Arbron! What are you up to? Demorph!)) Elfangor yelled, his tone sounding as if he was on the verge of tears. Then, in an almost pleading voice, ((Come on, Arbron. Demorph.))

Time seemed to stand still even as I spoke up, my voice somehow calm and collected, ((I really wish I could, Elfangor. I really wish I could.))

* * *

Everything around me was shrouded in darkness. The stale air in the cramped and ruined bridge reeked of ozone and burnt electronics.

I had always been a good exo-datalogist. I had been good enough to fool Elfangor into firing a pilfered Yeerk Dracon beam at me, cranked up to its highest setting.

I was a very qualified exo-datalogist, but then again, Elfangor's reflexes were about as good as my skills with computers were. A twitch of his wrist, caused by the slightest instinct, had resulted in the large hole that now adorned the bridge's floor, and the wounded Taxxon that was me.

Two swipes of his tail. That was all it had taken to slash off four of my legs before he turned the Dracon beam on me.

My ploy to get myself killed had failed. Maybe Fate was a sadist, after all.

Only the gods knew how much time passed as I lay there, motionless in the darkened bridge of the crashed Skrit Na ship. Elfangor had been thrown out as the ship crashed, thrown through the transparalon bridge view port like a child's toy. I realized that the odds of him surviving were slight, but I consoled myself with the fact that the ship had probably been very close to the ground when he had been thrown out.

I already had too much on my hands to worry about adding a fellow Andalite's death to the tally.

Out of the silence, there came an eerily familiar sound. A series of rhythmic clicks and whistles sounded through the still air, making my blood run cold.

Taxxons. And by the sounds of it, at least more than two of them. In my current state, I had no hope of fighting back, what more if they were armed with Dracon beams...

My fears were confirmed as the three Taxxons walked into the ruined bridge with an almost casual air. But something seemed amiss. The Taxxons were unarmed, and didn't even seem to be holding any communications devices. Surely the Yeerks would have armed any controllers they sent after several escaping Andalites?

I very nearly jumped out of my skin when the foremost Taxxon turned to me and spoke to me in a strange, guttural voice, almost like the echoes of a cry down the walls of a valley.

((YOU.)) the Taxxon said, speaking in a voice that sounded audible both as thought-speak and also as a mouth-sound, ((SO, YOU ARE THE ONE.))

Bewildered, I could only stare in shock at the creature - whatever it was, 'Taxxon' was probably not on the list, as far as I was currently concerned.

Seemingly plucking my thoughts out of thin air, the _thing_ spoke up once again, in the same booming voice, which seemed to make my very brain resonate.

((I AM THE LIVING HIVE. MOTHER AND FATHER OF THE TAXXONS. I AM A TAXXON AND YET, NOT ONE OF THE CREATURES KNOWN AS TAXXONS. AND YOU, ARBRON, ARE THE ONE I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR.))

((Whatever for? I'm just an Andalite trapped in a Taxxon morph,)) the bitterness in my thought-speak voice was very discernible.

((YOU UNDERSTAND THE ENEMY. TOGETHER, WE WILL BANISH THE YEERKS FROM THIS WORLD, AND ONCE MORE, THE TAXXON PEOPLE SHALL KNOW FREEDOM.))

((The Yeerks _feed_ your people. This world is barely sufficient to sustain your species!)) I protested, feeling a knot of discomfort in my gut, ((There isn't enough food here for your species to survive.))

The Taxxon which called itself the 'Living Hive' was silent for a moment, but when it spoke up again, it was with conviction in its voice. From then on, I knew my protests were useless.

((FREEDOM MAKES LIFE WORTH IT, DESPITE HAVING TO ENDURE OUR CURSED HUNGER,)) it declared loudly, ((WE, THE TAXXONS, WOULD RATHER STARVE THAN REMAIN SLAVES OF THE YEERKS. AND _YOU_, ARBRON, WILL LEAD US TO OUR SALVATION.))


	3. History

**History - Arbron**

If there is one thing we Andalites fear, it is enclosed spaces. We had evolved on the grassy plains of our home world, pack animals by nature. Once a species of wandering and defenseless herbivores, we had eventually developed our tail blades to protect ourselves from the various predators that existed on our planet.

Hmph, just listen to me talk. As if I can still consider myself to be an Andalite. Where I was once uncomfortable merely by being aboard a space craft, the narrow, convoluted tunnels we were passing through now barely fazed me. Perhaps it was the Taxxon's instincts that caused me to feel less discomfort in the cramped confines of their traveling warrens.

The very instincts that were powerful enough to drive me into the crazed hunger earlier might have also been strong enough to overcome my inherent claustrophobia.

As I pondered the ability of the Taxxon's natural instincts to overwhelm reason and fear, I was drawn along the seemingly endless length of the dark tunnel by a gentle vacuum. Where the vacuum came from, I could not possibly guess, but it was somehow soothing being moved around in it. Two of the three Taxxons that had found the crashed Skrit Na ship were already ahead of me, whereas the third was behind me, along with the two cocooned Skrit and the single mobile Skrit that they had agreed to take as food in place of Elfangor.

We had found Elfangor just several meters away from the ship, lying unconscious on the hard-packed dirt of the Taxxon planet's surface. Miraculously, he had survived being thrown out of the ship during its violent descent.

((BE CALM, ARBRON,)) the Living Hive's voice spoke up in my mind, ((WE ARE SOON TO ARRIVE AT THE MAIN COLONY.))

* * *

With a soft and wet-sounding PLOP, I fell out of the tunnel's exit and landed in an undignified heap on some moist, loamy soil. Struggling to get up onto my slowly-regenerating legs, I looked up, and very nearly exclaimed with shock at what I saw.

There were Taxxons everywhere! They were crawling all over the massive underground chamber, going about their own business. Innumerable tunnels dug into the walls of the chamber were visible, leading to places that I didn't want to think about.

I felt a rush of fear shoot through my mind, not all of it my own - the Taxxon in me was equally afraid of being cannibalized by its own people.

((IT WILL NEVER HAPPEN HERE. ALL TAXXONS ARE MY OFFSPRING AND BRETHREN. ONLY THOSE WHO ALLY THEMSELVES WITH THE YEERKS SHALL END UP CONSUMING EACH OTHER, WITHOUT MY GUIDANCE TO KEEP THEIR BASAL INSTINCTS UNDER CONTROL.))

Abruptly, the hunger in my Taxxon's mind became vastly diminished. If the Living Hive wanted to prove a point, it certainly did so rather impressively.

Liberated of my fears and appetite - at least for now - I began to observe the Taxxons that were moving about in their natural environment. Somehow, the Taxxons in here all seemed to look slightly more active than those which I had seen working for the Yeerks. They also looked different, though my mind struggled for a bit to compare them with the Taxxon specimens I had seen before...

It was then that it struck me - they were all much thinner than the Taxxons in the Yeerk space port. Where the Yeerk's Taxxon workers were bloated worms that slithered around slowly, these Taxxons were sleeker and thinner. I even observed some of them with numerous scars and healing wounds decorating their slimy bodies. Doubtlessly, food was scarce in the wilderness of this planet, and they certainly looked the part.

((IT WAS NOT ALWAYS LIKE THIS.))

((What?)) I replied nervously. The Living Hive's had already been using its apparent telepathic powers to pluck some bits of information from my mind for a while now, but I still found it somewhat unnerving, ((What do you mean, 'it wasn't always like this'?))

((I SHALL ENTER YOUR MIND, AND YOU SHALL UNDERSTAND THE SEQUENCE OF EVENTS THAT LED TO OUR HUNGER.))

((What could possibly have happened? An asteroid collision?)) I asked the Living Hive.

((I DO NOT UNDERSTAND THE SCIENCE OF IT ALL. ALL I REMEMBER IS THAT A STAR FELL, AND THAT WAS WHERE OUR CURSE BEGAN.))

The chamber was plunged into darkness, and images began to form in my mind of their own volition.

* * *

I stood in the middle of a grassy clearing, a warm, relaxing breeze blowing in my direction. Tall trees bordered the clearing, with dense clusters of undergrowth liberally covering the ground beneath their leafy canopies. Birds and insects chirped and sang all around me, giving the clearing a sense of extreme serenity.

((Where am I?)) I asked no one in particular.

((THIS WAS HOW OUR WORLD USED TO BE.))

Momentarily stunned by the Living Hive's declaration, I could only reply with a meaningless, ((Uh?))

((THIS WAS THE STATE OF OUR WORLD, BEFORE THE STAR FELL FROM THE SKY.))

((Ah, so it _was_ an asteroid or meteorite that damaged your world,)) I said, nodding my head slightly.

The Living Hive remained silent, and before I could say anything more, the sky darkened.

((What? Living Hive?))

Suddenly, the entire sky lit up with an intense, glaring light. The air became progressively hotter, slowly turning the grass into cinders and the trees into kindling. Soon enough, the landscape was charred and blackened, the clearing where I stood now little more than a lifeless piece of land.

In the distance, there was a titanic explosion, as the asteroid or meteorite impacted on the planet's surface. The ground quaked severely, nearly causing me to topple over despite the Taxxon's low-slung body and widely spread legs. The air now reeked of smoke and something vaguely sulfurous, as it became drier and hotter.

The landscape around me shifted shapes, until I stood in a tunnel illuminated by phosphorescent algae. Up ahead of me were several crustacean-like creatures, with four glowing red eyes each. They moved with eerily synchronized steps, their eyes looking all in the same direction.

Out of the blue, the tunnel shook, bits of dirt falling from the ceiling. The four creatures rapidly began scrabbling at the ground beneath their numerous, stick-like legs, clearly trying to tunnel their way to safety. But it was too late - the tunnel collapsed as the earthquake continued, and the creatures were all crushed by the falling ceiling of the tunnel.

((THOSE WERE THE TAXXONS, IMMEDIATELY AFTER THE STAR FELL FROM THE HEAVENS.))

I stood there, still suspended in the illusory realm, my mind slowly absorbing the meaning of the Living Hive's words. So the Taxxon home world had once been a planet that could sustain life, but which had been devastated by an asteroid impact. But what I still couldn't understand was how an entity such as the Living Hive had evolved.

((YOU HAVE SEEN OUR HISTORY,)) the Living Hive boomed, ((AND YET YOU FAIL TO UNDERSTAND.))

((But... How? How did you become into such a powerful being?))

((I AM NOT A 'BEING', ARBRON. ALL TAXXONS ONCE SHARED A COMMON KNOWLEDGE, A SINGLE CONSCIENCE. I AM MERELY THAT SAME CONSCIENCE GIVEN A MEASURE OF INTELLIGENCE.))

Common conscience... Intelligence? ((You are the evolved form of a primitive hive mind!))

((USE YOUR OWN WORDS FOR IT YOU MAY, BUT YES, THAT IS THE GIST OF IT.))

My mind reeled with the sudden realization of how the Taxxons had become the way they were today. The collision would have made food scarce, and as such, their hive mind had evolved into something much more intelligent than circumstances usually permitted. Hence the Living Hive.

But what about the hunger?

Once again, as if to show off its awesome mental might, the Living Hive supplied me with an answer, ((I MADE THEM AFRAID, ARBRON. IT WAS THE ONLY WAY.))

((Why, though? They could still forage without the 'curse', as you put it.))

((I ONLY WANTED THEM TO SURVIVE. BUT I OVERSTEPPED MY BOUNDARIES, AND EVENTUALLY, THEY BECAME MORE RAVENOUS THAN I WOULD HAVE ALLOWED FOR.))

((What does fear have to do with hunger?))

((THEY ALL FEAR WHAT THEY MIGHT NOT BE ABLE TO GET... AND I MADE THEM FEAR BEING HUNGRY.))

Finally, I understood what the Living Hive had done, out of desperation to save the Taxxon species. It had instilled a pathological fear of starvation in them, which sort of explained the ravenous nature of a Taxxon.

In a way, I began to pity them - an entire species of terrified over-eaters. They ate not to survive, but due to the phobia of wasting away when their basic needs weren't met.

Eons ago, that very fear had allowed their species to survive the massive food shortage that blighted their world. But now, it was something that had led to enslavement of their species, and the sickening cannibalism that Taxxons were infamous for.

A thought struck me, and I voiced out my query to the Living Hive, ((Living Hive, why didn't you try to order your Taxxons not to follow the Yeerks?))

((AS I EVOLVED INTO WHAT I AM TODAY, SO DID THEY. I NOW ONLY HAVE INFLUENCE OVER THOSE WHO WISH TO OBEY ME.))

((You cannot force them to bow to your will?))

((TO DO SO WOULD KILL THEM.))

For the first time ever, I felt sorry for the Taxxons. They had been granted the most unfair of circumstances by which their species was to survive on, and had wound up enslaved. Fate was cruel, indeed.

((LAMENTING THE PAST DOES NOT LEAD TO FREEDOM!)) announced the Living Hive forcefully, ((WE HAVE DECIDED TO DO WHAT WE CAN TO DRIVE THE YEERKS FROM THIS WORLD. THE QUESTION IS... WILL YOU HELP US?))

I remained silent for a while, and the Living Hive mercifully left me some peace and quiet to think in.

I could never go home again.

I would never be free of this body ever again.

With a pang of hurt, I realized that I could no longer call the Andalites my species.

((ARBRON?)) this time, the Living Hive's voice was softer, and almost seemed... caring.

((I will help you fight the Yeerks,)) I declared firmly, ((How many Taxxons can you spare for fighting?))

The Living Hive answered my question, and the next one, and the one after that.

And all the while, deep inside my hearts, I cried.


	4. Rebellion

**Rebellion - Arbron**

I stood alone on a sort of dais overlooking the massive central cavern of the Taxxons' underground home. Well, to be frank, calling it a dais was probably being generous; it was little more than a mound of hard-packed dirt and soil that had been piled up for the purpose of making announcements.

All around the dais, innumerable Taxxons shifted around restlessly, making an eerie whistling noise that somehow conveyed an air of great anticipation. It made me nervous just to stand there, what with that unusual sound.

Alright, I'll be honest - it made me _very _nervous.

Suddenly, the whistling sounds stopped. The Taxxons as one turned to face the dais, their glowing red eyes all swiveling to point in my direction.

((IT IS TIME, ARBRON. YOU MAY SPEAK TO THEM NOW.))

Drawing in a deep breath, I spoke up in the slurring mouth-sounds of the Taxxon language. The Taxxons all stood in place attentively, some nodding every now and then. I elaborated on the detailed plan that I had drawn up alongside the Living Hive, and they were all soon whistling and hissing again, some even clacking their pincers in excitement.

One thousand Taxxons was what we needed. One thousand Taxxon volunteers to swarm the space port and launch a surprise attack on the Yeerks. To try and retake that one space port, and commandeer all of the spacecraft there. With the stolen spacecraft, we could then proceed to slag the other space ports on the Taxxon planet, and hence regain the freedom that had been given to the Yeerks in exchange for food.

I knew that such a plan was most probably suicidal. It was very probably going to fail. But yet, seeing how willingly the Taxxons were all eating it all up, I myself began to feel some hope blossom in what had been a desolate field of skepticism.

Within ten minutes of concluding my little speech, I had two times as many volunteers as I would have needed. But the Living Hive had been very explicit in its orders - no more than a thousand Taxxons were to be recruited for this little rebellion of ours. It would still need the rest to maintain order in the Hive, after the thousand had left for the battle of the space port.

The volunteers were selected quickly, and soon enough, they had started to assemble at the long tunnels that would take them to the Yeerk space port. All of them stood in lines, strangely docile and well-behaved.

I ran through the plans for the fight once again in my mind; hit the Yeerks hard and fast, and while they were still reeling from the shock, board and fly the spacecraft. Given the Hive's mental command over them, all of the fighting Taxxons would be just as capable of flying a Bug Fighter as I was.

As I walked past the lines of assembled Taxxons, I admired some aspects of the Taxxon anatomy that I had never realized before. Bodies without bones that couldn't be squashed easily by tunnel cave-ins. Legs spread out widely for optimum stability of a fluid-filled, unstable torso that tended to be thrown around quite a bit during the occasional earthquake. Eyes that couldn't see well in daylight, but which could detect even the smallest traces of movement in dimly-illuminated areas.

From my point of view as a former Andalite that had specialized somewhat in exo-datalogy, the Taxxon physique was actually an extremely well adapted form, considering their natural environment. Add in their superior reflexes - surprisingly fast for invertebrates - and you had an organism that was pretty impressive, solely from a physical point of view. If I was to ever design a machine for excavation purposes, I would most likely design it based on the Taxxon's body shape.

But when you considered their eternal hunger, everything that was impressive about them thus far was overshadowed. While their hunger had been useful and tolerable under the Living Hive's control, it had become monstrous on its own.

For the first time ever, I pitied a species for achieving sentience, for being sentient was the very thing that had distanced them from the Living Hive's guidance and control. Being able to think freely had enabled the Taxxons to willfully ignore the Hive's commands, and of course, with only their appetites to lead them... Freedom would have seemed like a small price to pay in the short run.

Being able to _think_ freely was nothing compared to being able to _live_ freely, after all.

((ARBRON,)) the Living Hive spoke to me, in its booming voice, ((HE IS HERE.))

((Elfangor?))

((I DON'T OFTEN SEE ANDALITES IN THE WILDERNESS HERE, SO I AM ASSUMING HE IS THE ONE.))

((Very well, then.))

I scuttled off towards the tunnels that led to the Skrit Na fighter, to meet up with Elfangor.

Like it or not, he would be joining our little rebellion, and as a friend - maybe former friend - of his, I had one last request to make of him.

* * *

"... gimme, gimme, gimme the honky-tonk blues!" screeched the primitive electronic speaker installed in the obscenely yellow _thing_ that Elfangor had driven into the Living Hive's central chambers.

I saw him, standing daintily behind the steering wheel of the machine, which was probably a vehicle of sorts, given the four wheels it sported on its sides. For a few seconds, he reeled as if he had been given a massive blow to his head, and I realized that the Living Hive was probably speaking to him.

((IS THE THE CREATURE?))

Deciding to spare Elfangor the torment, I answered the question, ((Yes. That's him. He is called Elfangor.))

I walked up to him, and he swiveled his stalk eyes to look at me, while his main eyes took in the sights around him. Poor thing, he was probably scared witless by what he saw.

((Arbron?))

((Yes, Elfangor. It's me.))

((I was afraid you were dead.))

I bit back the wave of emotions that threatened to overcome myself upon hearing those words, and managed to give him a suitably calm reply, ((I wanted to be. But I am still alive. Alive to serve the Living Hive.))

((The what?))

I gestured towards the busy area behind me, ((The Living Hive. Light of the Taxxons. Mother and Father of the Taxxons. The Hive has lost many of its children to the Yeerks. But the Living Hive is still the Mother and Father of the species.))

((Arbron, what are you talking about? Have they done something to you?)) he asked in response, the disbelief evident in his voice. I laughed, and for that one moment, I felt almost as if I were back on board the StarSword again, joking around with an Andalite friend or several.

((Have they done something to me? Well, they didn't eat me, if that's what you mean. The Taxxons who found us after we crashed wanted to eat us both. But I gave them the Skrit instead. I had no choice! And then the Living Hive learned what I was. It drew me here.))

((We're hundreds of miles from where we landed. How did you get here? You couldn't possibly have walked.))

I sighed, and walked closer to him, ((The Living Hive's tunnels extend across thousands of miles, Elfangor. There is suction in the tunnels. A Taxxon has only to fold back its legs, and the pressure draws it swiftly down the tunnel, as the Hive commands.))

I had a lot of explaining to do, it seemed. And sure enough, within the next five seconds, he had another question for me.

* * *

_No, Elfangor._

My own words ran through my mind as I powered up the Bug Fighter's engines and weapons.

_Tell them I died in battle. Let them remember me the way I used to be, okay?_

After the Jahar had taken off with Sub-Visser Seven as a prisoner, all the free Taxxons who had been playing dead or pretending to be defeated had rallied back with a surprise second strike at their Yeerk captors. Even Hork Bajir were no match for a furious Taxxon when caught off-guard, and now, we had successfully boarded sixteen Bug Fighters.

Out of the one thousand Taxxons that had taken part in the attack, only fifty-four remained alive, myself included. And all of us were in those sixteen Bug Fighters, ready to inflict some damage on the Yeerks.

_I don't want them to remember me like this. I don't want them picturing me this way._

The Bug Fighter lifted-off the ground, and the Yeerks down below were too panicked to try and shoot us down. But we couldn't afford to waste any time - they still had that Pool Ship dry-docked just several hundred meters away, and it could easily shut us down with an override command.

((All Taxxons, fly for the Pool Ship! Strafe the ground beneath us, and take everything in our way out!))

Affirmative hisses and whistles came over the communications airwaves, and the other fifteen Bug Fighter followed my lead, flying towards the bloated, spider-like ship, twin Dracon beams firing and slagging everything in our paths. Gedds, Hork Bajir, and even Taxxons ran around in a blind panic, trying to get out of the line of fire.

Suddenly, one of the Bug Fighters that had flown ahead of me stopped in mid-air, the one behind it colliding into it. The two of them exploded in a massive fireball, which the other fighters narrowly avoided.

For a moment, I was bewildered, but regained my senses enough to realize what had happened - the Pool Ship! Those Yeerks on board must have beamed an override code out at the fighters! Fortunately for us, dry-docked ships usually don't have their shields raised.

Usually, that is.

((Target the Pool Ship's bridge!)) I commanded, ((The ovoid lump sticking out between the two damaged legs!))

One of my captured Bug Fighters rushed forward, and fired repeatedly at point-blank range at the Pool Ship's bridge. The unshielded bridge burst into flame, and even as the lucky fighter was flying back towards our group, explosions rocked the Pool Ship, shaking it on its already unsteady, damaged legs. With a series of further, progressively louder explosions, the massive ship collapsed in onto the dry-dock's temporary scaffolding and machinery.

((Deal with the rest of the space port, now!)) I shouted, even as the Pool Ship was disintegrated in a fiery explosion that took out another of my Bug Fighters. I gnashed my Taxxon teeth in frustration - not even halfway done here, and nearly a fifth of my ships were gone already!

TSEEEWWW!!!

BOOOMMM!!! One more of my captured Bug Fighters exploded into a ball of flame as the ground-based Dracon cannon fired at it.

TSEEEW! TSEEEW! TSEEEW! Three more shots managed to disable the weapons on one fighter, and destabilize the propulsion of another. One of my fighters took out the cannon emplacement with several well-aimed shots, but it was too late for that one destabilized fighter.

((Damaged fighter, can you still steer?)) I called out to the Taxxon pilot of the fighter whose engines had been damaged.

"Sreeee... Hiiisss!!!"

I cursed silently, then sent a final message to the doomed fighter, ((Crash the fighter into the control center. If they shoot you, just stay on course as much as possible.))

For a few torturous moments, I thought the pilot would disobey my orders. But he pointed his fighter's nose at the control center up ahead, and boosted all power to his engines.

((We need to get out of here, now!)) I yelled, ((To the second space port!))

As we wheeled about and flew away from the smoking, damaged space port, the fighter finally impacted on the control center. The explosion was colossal, sending debris flying high up into the air, and leveling almost every building that was within a fifty-meter radius.

It was our first victory over the Yeerks, and it felt good.

((TO THE SECOND SPACE PORT!)) commanded the Living Hive, its thunderous voice seemingly making the very hulls of our fighters vibrate, ((AND TO FREEDOM!!!))


	5. Foil

**Foil - Arbron**

We flew on towards the second space port, which was located about three-hundred kilometers east of the one we had just laid waste to, presently on the planet's night-side. It was the quieter of the two space ports, and was mainly used as a storage and freight area. Hence we had planned to destroy it after the larger and busier of the two - cargo barges tend to be not as heavily defended as a major transit station.

The twelve remaining Bug Fighters, mine included, could have easily been eliminated by the ground-based Dracon cannons that ringed the perimeter of the first space port. Fortunately for us, Yeerk engineers had programed their Dracon cannons to be incapable of opening fire on anything that was beaming out 'friendly' signals. That one cannon that had taken a wild shot at us, however... That made me worried.

If a panicked technician over at the destroyed space port was capable of rerouting the weapon emplacement's targeting systems within a moment's notice... All I could do was hope that the Yeerks over at the second space port wouldn't be as smart as their allies had been.

"Sreeeeeeyaaaaa!" announced the Taxxon piloting the leading fighter, "Aaaaahhhhhkeeessss!"

((Attack formations, people.))

The fighters flew into a passable imitation of a classic Marg Sabl battle flight formation. Passable because it was lifted from my mind by the Living Hive, and imitated because it was an Andalite battle formation. We rocketed forward, Dracon beams armed...

There it was! Up ahead, in the darkness, glowed numerous little lights, illuminating our target destination. The lights shined out of buildings and also spotlight structures, casting long, gangling shadows out over the cracked desert ground that surrounded the isolated cargo repository.

((Fire at my mark, people,)) I commanded, as we drew within four hundred meters of the space port, ((Watch for enemy fighters.))

((Mark.))

TSEEEWWW!!! TSEEEWWW!!! TSEEEWWW!!!

BOOOMMM!!! A cargo warehouse exploded, tongues of fire shooting out of the ruined building as it collapsed in on itself. Within seconds, three large warehouse buildings had been totally slagged, and the outer edges of the spaceport was visibly lit-up by the fires we had set to it.

((The control center, quickly! That one there with the antennae!)) it was imperative that we destroy the control center - otherwise, a distress signal could have been beamed to the orbiting Yeerk forces. And that was something we most definitely did NOT want.

"Siiisssss? Kuuutttt!"

((What is it?)) I snapped, somewhat frustrated; the control center was still standing, and by the looks of it, a force field had been hastily erected about its vicinity, ((The control center is our priority!))

"Hissss..."

That one drew my attention - apparently, several strange, unidentified Yeerk ships were approaching us from behind.

((Deal with the control center. I'll handle the new ships,)) I ordered, ((Two of you come with me!))

Suddenly, everything stopped. All my fighters froze in mid-air, their weapons ceasing fire. My own fighter had been halted too - and for the first time since we had left the smoking ruins of the first space port behind us, I felt fear well up within me. Had the Yeerks at the second space port somehow used an override code on us? But there wasn't even a major battleship in sight!

The communications station crackled to life with some traces of static, and an ice-cold voice spoke up in Galard, "We have you now, you Taxxon fools. Our override code has locked down all your systems, and very soon, you will be landing in our little space port."

For some reason, I felt genuinely terrified when I heard that voice over the airwaves. It was merciless, confident, and somehow... just plain intimidating.

_You are an aristh, Arbron! _I chided myself, _Focus!_

I realized what I had to do - they must never find out about the Living Hive, and about my status as a Taxxon nothlit. The solution was obvious.

((Living Hive-))

((IT IS DONE, ARBRON,)) the powerful entity said, its thunderous voice lower and seemingly saddened, ((IT IS DONE.))

Even as the fighters were being landed by their autopilot mechanisms, their Taxxon hijackers began to devour each other, forced to be even hungrier than normal by the Living Hive's psychic command.

As I drew a hand-held Dracon beam, I felt a pang of regret - we had come so close to success on this half-cocked mission, and now we were being pushed up into a corner.

((I'm sorry,)) I whispered, even as I fired at my fellow Taxxons with the Dracon beam at full power. The pungent stench of death and burning flesh filled the air, as did their screams of agony.

Taxxons couldn't cry; they were not equipped with tear ducts. So I cried in my hearts, for what my failure had cost in terms of Taxxon lives.

Before I could finish my wallowing in emotion, the fighter rocked ever-so-slightly, and landed.

* * *

It felt like hours, waiting for the ship's hatch to open up.

Outside, through the fighter's transparisteel viewport, I could see groups of Hork Bajir, Taxxons, Gedds, and Sstram moving about frantically. Now and then, I would catch sight of three unusually-clad Sstram; one in green, one in black, and one in an outfit that looked almost like a robe of some sort. Every time those three controllers passed by, they would gesture towards a particular Bug Fighter, and the other controllers would open up the ship and board it. It looked like they were the highest-ranking controllers here, or at least the ones in charge.

It was probably one of them that had contacted us earlier - Hork Bajir, Taxxons, and Gedds aren't exactly the great orators of the galaxy.

With a Taxxon version of a sigh, I looked down at the bodies of my late fellow Taxxon freedom fighters, lying on the metal floor in fetid pools of their own fluids and organs. I had killed them, and hopefully, the Yeerks would buy my story.

THUMP! The Bug Fighter's hatch was opened, and two Hork Bajir controllers stepped into the cramped cabin.

"SREEEYYYYAAA!!!" I screeched, somewhat shocked by their sudden appearance.

"Taxxon scum!" spat one of them, stepping closer to me with a menacing gleam in his eyes, "You will die, and Vissers will give praise!"

"Hah!" shouted the other Hork Bajir, as he grabbed hold of his fellow's arm and yanked him back forcefully, "Idiot! Vissers want Taxxon live!"

"Vissers don't know what Vissers don't know!"

"We _know_ what you were planning to do, and you _will _pay for it," came a voice from the hatch, the very same one that had spoken to us Taxxons earlier.

The two Hork Bajir whipped around in horror, and I saw the three strangely-clothed Sstram standing there in the open hatchway.

"Go to the detention pool and vacate your host bodies," snapped the Sstram in the green outfit, "We shall deal with the prisoner."

"Your lives are to be spared, but be assured that your punishment for disobeying orders will be severe," added the robed Sstram crisply.

Detention pool? Never before had I heard of such a thing... I stepped back cautiously, even as the two terrified-looking controllers exited the cabin, leaving me alone with the three Sstram controllers. They had been talking about Vissers before this... Were these three controllers all full-ranked Vissers?

All three of them drew Dracon beams and walked closer to me. I backpedaled slightly, and felt my back hit the computer console.

"So, we have a Taxxon terrorist," mused the black-clothed Sstram, "Infestation?"

"Obviously," snorted the robed one, "The best way to get the truth out of a Taxxon, that is."

Desperately, I turned around and faced the computer console, my eyes searching for the multi-purpose command pad.

"Hey!" shouted one of the three, "Why you-"

"Relax, Orvak," said another one of them, "The ship has been overriden fully. Only the most rudimentary functions can be accessed from the console now."

I found the pad, and pressed a pincer onto it. Praying once again that this plan would work, I spoke to the computer in the twisted Taxxon tongue.

"Suuuuhhhh!!! Kreeeyyaaa..."

The computer picked up on my words, and translated them into Galard, the deciphered message coming out in a mechanical voice over the console's communications apparatus.

"Don't. Shoot. I. Was. Forced."

"Really now? Looks like we have a smart Taxxon on our hands here."

"Give me your name, brother Yeerk."

"None. Voluntary. Collaborator."

"Assigned supervisor?"

I took a wild guess on this one, "Sub. Visser. Seven."

A scornful snort came from one of the three Sstram, "Esplin? No wonder."

"Taxxon, are you saying that these rebels forced you to fly this fighter?"

"Yes. Threatened. To. Eat. My. Hatchlings."

"You have hatchlings?"

"Yes. But. I. Don't. Know. Where. They. Are."

"That is too bad," said a Sstram brusquely, "Well, looks like we wont have to infest you, and that's a relief."

"Yes," chipped in his companion, "But you will be detained until we can verify the authenticity of your claims."

Minutes later, as they led me out of the fighter, I said a silent prayer that the Living Hive would stay with me to keep me safe.


End file.
